Just Another Case To You
by Krier
Summary: It seems Eve Avery is becoming a prime jewel to an unfolding mystery. What will Sherlock and Watson discover behind her fatal attack that could have rendered her dead? What else will develop in this case in and out of it?
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! Before you start my story I would like to add a note saying thank you for reading this and I apologize if it seems to go fast. I have never been good at pacing things and also for false information or anything. I am just writing this for my own fun and hopefully for yours as well. Maybe to help me out, you guys can send me suggestions and such or pointers that could help me along? Thank you!

All she could hear was the labored breathing rasping from her own chest, several agonizing sparks flickering through her torso and vibrating through out her body. The world blurred in and out of focus, details shrouded in the dull luminescence streaming from the ceiling. Night time by the likes of it. She lifted a hand, eyes slipping down to her finger tips and froze. The normally pallid skin was now painted with a dark liquid, reflecting scarlet in color underneath the lighting. She struggled to draw in a gulp of air, the effort earning her another stab of pain and the unfocusing of the entire room. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Yet before she could fathom the situation she was in, a dizziness entered her skull, tipping the room into a whirl that sent her cranium crashing back to the hard wooden floor. And then everything faded into black.

Sirens wailed in her ears, slicing through the murky depths of unconsciousness as she pushed against the weight that settled upon her chest and mind. There was something else however she could make out from the muted sounds that managed to sink through. Sirens, a faint beeping, a jumble of voices, the rattling of metal and the mechanical wheeze of machinery. Where was she? Once more she pushed against the blackness, feeling it shatter a way as her heavy eyelids twitched, aware of the light that filtered down upon her complexion. A painful brightness dominated the blurry picture as she opened her eyes, automatically shutting them again. The pitch in the voices changed and she could feel a flurry of movement around her, the warmth of a hand pressing against her cheek and gingerly giving her a couple nudges.

"Eve?" She heard her name, willing herself to peek again, this time the intensity of the lighting blocked by a humanly silhouette. "Eve? Are you alright? Can you hear me, Eve?" She mumbled, tilting her features a way from the hand and dragging her gaze a way from the shadowed visage. "It is alright... You are going to be alright. Just stay with us." How could she follow those words? It felt like all she wanted to do was fall back into the darkness that was creeping back into the edges of her vision. Yes, she had just arisen from it, yet here it was, threatening to drown her again.

It crawled along, sucking her back down as her eyelids flickered shut and blotted out the world, turning it back into nothingness.

"She survived? That is a surprise with the wounds she has." Voices again, this time clearer. She could detect the beeping again and the wheeze of machinery again. Voices though... Quite a bit of voices around her, all muttering and leading down to connect their conversations to her. She let off an inaudible groan, shifting her shoulders just slightly yet it brought a silence into the room. "Ms. Avery? Are you alright?" Her lips twitched, trying to find words yet her tongue and throat felt dry. She peeked through her lids, blinded once more by the light yet she did not flinch. Everything appeared stark white, sanitary and clean. The ceiling - Grey speckled with black with panels of light dominating some of the rectangular panels that made up the ceiling. Her eyes opened up a little bit more, noticing the figures that stood on either side of her. Some dressed in ivory coats and others dressed in a police uniform. Her eyes flashed open, her brows furrowing as she lifted her head slightly to gaze around the room.

"Where am I?," she muttered, flashing a startled glare to the nearest person A doctor. She was in a hospital. "You are somewhere safe now. You and your wounds have been treated..," he muttered, leaning forward to place a hand on her shoulder. She simply starred at him, narrowing her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Uh... Ms. Avery." Another voice directed her attention, leading her attention straight to a man dressed in civilian wear, features a tad ashened and tresses a slightly dirty blonde. "You were attacked, we so do believe. You sustained major injuries to your chest mostly." Her lips fell open, her heart skipping a beat as she continued to stare at the man. "What do you mean " she muttered, her arms pushing her up to sit up yet she was met with a stab of pain that rippled through her torso. She gasped, wincing back as the doctor at her side drew forward and added a little pressure to her shoulder. "Ms. Avery. Please stay down. You are in no condition to move much just yet. Just in case the wounds end up reopening and bleeding more." Eve looked up at him, a frown pulling at the edges of her lips. She couldn't remember anything on how she got here or the situation she had been in but... Why were there so many cops here? The man, however, mentioned she had been attacked.

She turned, or rather looked, back at him, placing a questioning look on her face. "Mr. Watson," the Doctor breathed, following her gaze to him, "It seems she doesn't understand her situation... Maybe you could example more to her." Watson gave a nod and took in a sharp inhale before shouldering his way past the police men to her bed side. What she had not noticed was the man that had stood beside him. Tall, slightly pale in features himself with misty eyes that flickered as though observing something. Locks of dark brown curled around his features, defining his slightly elongated visage and the focus that dominated his expression. She gave him a puzzled look yet that didn't earn her any sort of response in return.

"Ms. Avery." Yet again she was addressed as she focused on Watson. "Please just call me Eve," she murmured, finally finding some words as she addressed him herself in her own way. "Eve," he corrected himself after a second paused, "You were attacked, as I mentioned before. For what, we don't know but it seemed the attacker was intent on..." Watson paused again and she gave him a curious yet urgent glare. "It seemed they were intent on killing you but somehow, from some sort of miracle, you survived. They seemed to have missed your heart completely yet managed to puncture one of your lunges and let a few shallow stab wounds to the rest of her torso area and a bit of your abdomen." So that explained why she had a bit of difficulty breathing and any sort of deep inhale caused her another spark of pain.

"Correction, Watson." The new voice brought her back to the mysterious man who was now pushing past to join Watson's side. "Sherlock," Watson muttered, giving him a questioning look, "What do you make of this?"

Sherlock paused and lifted a finger to his pallid lips. "The attacker wasn't intent on killing her. If they were, they would have definitely stabbed her through the heart yet none of the stabs wounds land on the heart. Yes, around it, but not through it. The fact that they had punctured a lunge would have caused a slow death from the organ filling with blood but they knew that she would have been found and rescued before she could die. And the extra, shallow wounds only provided an alibi to make it seem like they were intent on killing her."

"You think that is all that happened?," the Doctor interrupted Sherlock turned the to white coat, giving him a matter-of-fact sort of look. "I know this all happened. It is obvious."

"But why would someone do that? Why not kill me? It would just leave them vulnerable to be found by leaving their victim alive," she muttered, "Damn them for leaving me here... I would rather be in the morgue rather than in a hospital..."

Sherlock turned back to her, arching his brows, "That is where it gets interesting. Why would they leave you alive if it meant they could be caught? Let's find out shall we?" With that, the tall man whirled and shouldered past the officers and the detectives stationed at the back, exiting the room with no other words. "He... He will be back," Watson muttered and followed after.


	2. Chapter 2

Here it is! Chapter two! I still apologize if it is still a bit... Fast paced and if some things aren't edited. I also hope it all makes sense as well. What do you guys think? Is it alright so far?

"Are you making remarkable progress, Ms. Avery."

"Eve... Please just call me Eve."

"Yes well... Uh... Eve. Your wounds are healing quite well and the puncture to the lunge is no longer a threat to your health. Although, you will have to be careful in doing any sort of major physical activities."

She gave a sharp exhale, shrugging her shoulders as the Doctor continued on through his charts, naming off information that didn't quite filter through her ears. She had been cooped up in this Hospital for weeks now and it was beginning to drive her mad. More like stir crazy. Eve pushed herself to lean against the head board of the bed, crossing her arms delicately over her chest. Ever since the incident of her attack, detectives and police men had been in and out of her room almost every day. She had cooperated accordingly, giving them information that they required, some details fuzzier than others.

Although the two, Sherlock and Watson, hadn't been in recently at all. It was rather funny but it didn't seem to cross her mind at all.

"You will be able to return to home soon, Ms. Ave- I mean... Eve," the doctor concluded, looking up from behind the glare of his glasses. Eve looked up as well, arching her brows as she gave a smile, actually happy about the news. She would be out of this place in no time, or she hoped so. Away from the stark, bleak halls of the hospital, the beeping of monitors and the wheezing of machinery. And most importantly, the doctors that constantly probed at her for information on how she was feeling and making up nonexistent excuses for some of it.

"How soon?," she inquired, lifting her chin as a sign of modest curiosity. The doctor paused, dropping his gaze back down to his notes before looking back up. "You should be good to go in about a week, Eve. If you are lucky, maybe even less." She nodded slightly and smiled once more, this time a bit more faint in her joy. A week or less, if she was lucky. Oh she hoped she would be lucky.

Foot steps sounded outside her door and with them, a couple of lowered voices. More detectives she presumed. Eve lifted her head slightly from her pillow, casting a glance towards the door way as the two masculine figures appeared underneath the frame. One tall and one shorter. She rested her skull back down, letting out an inaudible sigh as they approached, feeling a tad reluctant to answer any questions today.

"Ms. Avery?" It was the voice of that man from before. Watson was him name? "Call me Eve, please," she murmured, meeting his eyes as he lowered himself down to herself. "Yes... Right. Eve," he muttered, "May Sherlock and I speak to you? About your incident?" She shrugged her shoulders and sat herself up, propping her pillow up against the head of the bed to make herself a bit more comfortable. She knew this was going to take awhile. "Sure I guess so," Eve answered, once more crossing her arms over her torso, "But I don't understand why you couldn't have gotten the information from the other detectives that have come in?"

"I like my information fresh." This time the voice belonged to the taller figure- Sherlock. She looked up at him, met with the same observing gaze as before, visage ironed into a sort of focus. "I guess that makes sense," she replied, leaning back against her pillow, "Ask a way then."

"What exactly do you remember from the night you were attacked? Any specific details you could provide us with, Eve?," Watson began. She lifted her attention to the ceiling panels, letting the words run through her head as though she had rehearsed them over and over again for a play. "All I remember from that night was that I was in a dimly lit room. It was night time by the looks of it... There was no furniture in the room, no paintings, no sort of decorations. Nothing at all. Or nothing that I could make out. Everything... Was... Blurry." She paused a moment, mouth open as she sought out her next part of her explanation. "That is all I could remember of my location... After I had woken up."

"What do you mean after you had woken up?," Sherlock interrupted She looked back at the curly-haired man, pressing her lips together. "I woke up. I guess after I was attacked. I... I was just in the room, struggling to breath, in a lot of pain with the world spinning before my eyes, in a puddle of my own blood." She felt a sharp pain in her chest, although it wasn't from her wounds. Rather it was from the fear of that night. She had replayed the scene over and over again in her mind, trying to make sense on anything of what happened before she had woken in such a state. "I...," she paused, "I don't remember anything of my attacker or what had gotten me into the situation..."

Watson blinked once, pausing from the scribbling he had been doing on a little pad. "Can you remember anything in the day before you... Woke up?" - "Mmm," she breathed, resting her head back, "Well. I remember getting some coffee at my little favorite cafe before going off to work. I guess it isn't much of a job but... I enjoy it. Um... Afterwards I was invited out by one of my friends to go have some tea later in the evening."

"What is your job and where did you go have tea?" Once more, Sherlock interrupted eyes narrowed slightly at the edges. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, "I work as an artist. I have a small studio here in London and we went to get tea at the Milestone. Quite a fancy place. Never expected to be invited to get tea there." Silence descended upon the room as Watson finished up writing down the details, glancing between Sherlock and Eve, "Would that be all?" Sherlock shifted, slipping his hands into his pockets. "The Milestone you say?," he inquired, letting his voice drag a little before ending his sentence, "Shall we check it out, Watson? And maybe Eve's studio as well."

"Uh... You need a key to get into my studio. I would provide you with it but... I left it at my flat." Sherlock paused and looked back down at her, a small smile playing across his lips, "I don't think getting in will be a problem at all."

The lights that filtered in from the hall flickered off, leaving the pristine corridor shrouded in night. Her room, however, chased back the dark with the scarce light panels on the ceiling, now not seeming so bright compared to when she had first woken up. She nestled down into her pillow, glad for the poofy comfort. One of the greatest things here. "Good night, Eve." She looked up, noticing her doctor at the door way, ivory coat off and probably in his office- ready to head home. "Good night, Dr. Smith," she murmured, giving a hollow good bye smile. "Don't forget if you need anything, just call or press the 'nurse' button. There are people who work the night shift." Eve nodded, snuggling back down as he exited the room and turned off the lights, leaving her in the presence of the beeping monitors.

Sounds of foot steps awoke her from her sleep, groaning inwardly as she shifted in her bed. Who was walking through the halls this late at night? Eve lifted her head, casting a glance towards her closed door. Ah yes... Her doctor mentioned that there were people who worked the night shift here at the Hospital. Nothing to be alarmed about she reckoned She laid back down, closing her eyes as the steps approached, falling into background noise with all the other little sounds. Maybe if she was lucky, she could catch another few hours of sleep before Dr. Smith came to wake her up.

The steps suddenly stopped, causing her to look back up again. She narrowed her eyes slightly, peering at through the window on the door leading to her room. Darkness, that is all she could make out through the black square. Eve leisurely sat up, continuing to stare and watch. Was that a doctor? She laid back down, figuring they had paused at the office station or checking on another patient opposite of her room.

Her eyes flashed open as the handle on the door clicked, hinges creaking faintly. She tensed up, finger tips curling into her pillow as the sound stopped, leaving the room to fall back into quiet. She sucked in a small breath and forced herself to relax, pacing her breathing at a slow pace to mimic sleeping. Foot steps again. They were approaching her bed side- Slow and cautious, light by the sound of it. Probably hoping not to wake her. "Oh how could they leave you so vulnerable..." She stiffened again, hoping the silhouette that towered over her wouldn't notice. "I allowed you to get away once... I wonder if I should do it again. Oh and you are still healing." Her breath hitched in her throat as rough finger tips glided over her blanket before falling back to the mans side, a shiver of fear rippling down her spine.

"Such a hard decision but maybe I should let you go and risk me getting caught... Or maybe just end it here and clean up the mess and leave no trace? I regret keeping you alive. Now I have that Sherlock on my tail." From the corner of her eye, a sheen of silver caught the low light of the monitors, her blood turning to ice. "This is far too easy...," the voice muttered, a pause happening before she felt a gentle, almsot nonexistent, brush of her hair way from her neck. Her heart stopped as she closed her eyes, gripping her pillow once more.

She swung around, hitting the silhouette across the face with the pillow, striking out with her leg as she nailed him in the stomach. She scrambled up as he fell back, colliding against the floor with a loud thump. "Nurse!," she cried, twisting to slam her palm against the button not too far from her bed side. By the time she turned around, the figure was starring at her, fury alight in a cold gaze. She paused, her entire body tensing, expecting him to get up and charge at her. Rather, he jumped to his feet, spinning to face the window and pushed it open, hopping out into the cold night. Eve sucked in a deep breath, wincing at the pain that sparked in her chest, climbing out of her bed slowly. She shuffled to the window sill and peered through the open glass, searching the night for him. Nothing... Nothing at all.

"Eve!" She turned as a nurse and a doctor entered her room, flickering on the lights as they rushed to her side. Eve groaned lightly, shutting her eyes as they lead her back to her bed and coaxed her back into laying down. "He was here," she whispered. "Who was?," they inquired, gently inspecting her bandages. "My attacker... He was going to kill me." Both of them paused and looked up, the looks of their faces speaking of the alarm. "Call the police."

The next morning she was surrounded by police men and detectives again. She drew in a deep breath and sighed, rubbing her hand against her cheek. "He climbed out the window?" - "Yes he did," she replied, closing her eyes as she recalled the look he gave her before escaping. The attention redirected towards the window and the knife still left on the floor, leaving her surrounded by a few still-curious detectives. "What happened here?" The familiar voice of Watson brought her focus up to the two men entering the room. Sherlock and Watson. She shifted on her bed as they both redirected their gaze to her, Watson the first to make his way over. "Oh you know. Attacker now almsot turned into killer," she muttered, tilting her head towards the crime investigation. "Did he hurt you?," Watson asked, arching his brows. "No. No," she chuckled hollowly, "Almost did though. He said he regretted keeping me alive now that..." She paused a moment, casting her eyes towards Sherlock, "Now that he said Sherlock was on his tail."

Sherlock looked up, the edges of his lips curling faintly downwards before pressing together. "Well I am flattered," he muttered, "Trying to kill the living victim. How fun would that haven been." Watson gave him a glare before looking back at Eve, "Ignore him. He is just... Yabbering on."

Sherlock paced forward, observing the crime investigation. "Something tells me that the attacker hid in plain sight to get into the Hospital," he looked towards the door, "there was no sign of breaking and entering so he had to be dressed to look like a nurse or doctor. Or maybe he snuck in as a visitor and hid. More likely he disguised himself. Made his way here in the dead of night where he figured you would be sleeping soundly and would kill you silently. Possibly slit your throat." Eve blinked once and let off a slow exhale, giving a nod, "I didn't quite catch his clothing but he did remove the hair from my neck... I had to act... Quickly."

"What do you mean quickly?," Watson asked, crossing his arms over his chest with a look of confused curiosity. She shrugged lightly, "Well... I... Used my pillow to hit him in the face. Distract him and then I kicked him in the stomach. He fell back with gave me enough time to call for help. At that moment, he just... Glared at me and fled out the window." "Mmm... Interesting," Sherlock muttered, lifting a finger to his chin, "Fast thinking. What did he say to you?"

"He said that... I was left so vulnerable. Like he was disappointed that he got to me so easily and then he said if he should let me get away again. Alive I guess... And then he noticed that I was healing from my attack like it was something cute." She paused, a twitch of anger flashing through her heart before she continued, "Then he said it was such a hard decision... Whether to leave me alive or kill me and leave no trace of who he was. He mentioned the Sherlock thing and then said that it was far too easy for him to kill me." She looked up, first meeting Watson's eyes and then to Sherlock's, whom was busy peering around the room. "And the look he gave you?" Eve nodded, "He was furious. I could definitely tell."

"Which means he will be coming back." She slumped down against her bed, groaning inwardly, "God I hope he doesn't." "Oh he wi-" Her Doctor stepped forward, interrupting Sherlock as he gave a loud 'eh-hem'. Sherlock turned, giving him a sort of glare before Dr. Smith continued. "You will not be safe here, we know that now.. Even if we do put police officers here on patrol." Sherlock grunted, muttering, "Good god don't do that. He will find a way around them." Dr. Smith rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore Sherlock as he continued, "I think it is best that you return to a safer place. Possibly... I dunno." Her brows furrowed together, "If the hospital isn't even safe, why would home be any better?" Watson cleared his throat, attracting the attention of all three. "Why not our place, Sherlock? We are investigating her case anyway," he offered, giving a light shrug. Sherlock paused, his complexion displaying the complaint he was about to vocalize.

"I think that would be a wonderful idea," Dr. Smith expressed, turning to Watson, "And you were a doctor. I am sure you will be able to look after her." Eve looked between Watson and her doctor, opening her mouth to say something yet she hesitated, closing her lips. Maybe it was best to be with these two. Hell knows if they could keep her safe but she didn't really trust the hospital anymore nor could she trust being alone in her own flat. "Alright." All three of them looked at her, seeming surprised, even Sherlock.

"I will go with you guys."


	3. Chapter 3

Finally I have chapter 3 up! Sorry if it seems a bit short or anything! Chapter 4 is going to have a bit more action in it than the others so watch out for it. Also, before chapter 4, I will be writing a short Johnlock fan fiction so keep an eye out for that!

"Here we are, ma'am. 221B Baker Street." She opened the door, stepping out into the light down pour of rain. She slipped the taxi driver the required cash and retrieved her bags, turning around just in time to be confronted by a little old lady. "Hello there," the lady chimed, making her way to her with an umbrella up over head. "Mrs. Hudson I assume?," Eve answered, giving her a welcoming smile. "Oh yes, yes," Mrs. Hudson replied, offering her a bit of room underneath the umbrella in which Eve kindly declined. "Which one of the boys do you belong to?," Mrs. Hudson inquired. She paused, taking a moment to process the question. "Oh. Eh-hem...," she muttered, a bit of heat rising to her cheeks, "Neither one of them actually. I am one of their... Cases I guess." Mrs. Hudson gave a slow nod, her smile shifting into a look of concern, "Oh. Alright, dear. No worries then. I am sure one of the boys can share with you anyway."

"Right this way," Mrs. Hudson directed her, leading her up the staircase to her room. They both paused a moment, standing outside the main door of the flat. "How many rooms are in this place?," she asked, flashing a glance upwards. "Oh only two," Mrs. Hudson replied, knocking on the door, "In this flat at least. But if you want, I can share my basement with you. There isn't a whole lot down there and I keep an extra bed, desk, and dresser. You know... Just in case Sherlock ended up destroying his own. Surprised he hasn't yet." Both her and Mrs. Hudson waited for someone to open the door to the flat yet no one seemed to come. "Huh... I guess they went out somewhere. Maybe chasing another case. Sherlock likes to keep himself busy. Thank goodness I keep a spare key."

The door handle jiggled a little before twisting, pushing open to reveal the cluttered room. Eve stepped inside, gripping the handle of her bags as she gazed about, observing the large living room space. Ahead of her sat a fireplace, accompanied by a chair and a couch facing each other but angled slightly towards the door. Next, her eyes skimmed over the desk pushed against the tall windows that lead out to the outside world, seeming to be piled up with books, files, and papers and a stray computer among the mess. There were other things as well - The kitchen which the table was occupied with lab material and supplies, more likely a chemistry bench. The whole atmosphere of the room seemed a bit misty, almost dark but homey. Oddly enough. "They have uh...," she paused, allowing one more skim of the room, "an interesting place." Mrs. Hudson giggled lightly, walking to the fireplace and dusting off the top, "Yes they do indeed. I just hope they can keep it up with a lady around. Now follow me, I will show you to the basement."

She followed Mrs. Hudson to a door opposite of what she assumed was Sherlock's desk, the door seeming a bit hidden from the rest of the room. Being beside a bookcase gave it that hidden illusion. "Right down this way." She descended the steps, this time the wooden planks groaning faintly underneath her way as she made her way down into the dark. Lights flickered on, revealing the small room that was out of the way of the rest, a single smaller window covered by a pale curtain. Just like Mrs. Hudson had said, there was a bed, a desk, and a dresser, all perfectly placed to give a warm placement to the room. A red patterned rug lay in the middle, covering a great expanse of the hard wooden floors. Her eyebrows arched, making her way to her bed as she placed her bags down. "This is perfect, Mrs. Hudson, absolutely perfect."

By the time she had finished unpacking her bags and getting everything settled, which didn't take long, the sun was beginning to set and Sherlock and Watson were still not back. Maybe she would have a look around. She reopened the door that lead down to her room, peeking out into the living room where it was completely silent. Somehow, she enjoyed the odd place, or she had the feeling that she would. Eve stepped out and made her way to the fire place, noticing the skull set on top of it. Mrs. Hudson had warned her about touching it. Apparently it was one of Sherlock s favorite. She snorted lightly in amusement, expecting nothing less from the far-from-normal detective. Eve turned just slightly, next noticing the violin that rested on top of the cupboards. Mrs. Hudson had also informed her that Sherlock enjoyed his violin as well and not to lay a finger on that. There were a lot of things here not to touch. Things on his desk, his chemistry lab, things in his room but that was rather obvious. The bathroom? Where did Mrs. Hudson say it was at? Eve walked over to the main door, twisting to knob and peering at into the hallway and luckily to her left, she the caught the shine of the metal sign reading 'bathroom'.

She pressed her hands against the counter, enjoying the cool touch against her bare hands. Eve starred into the mirror with a low exhale, green oculars starring back at her. Her rounded yet feminine complexion seemed paler than normal, especially against the rich brown locks that draped around her features. The tresses fell down to her shoulders, bangs swept to the right and tucked behind her ear to get a better look at herself. She leaned back and slowly lifted her shirt, revealing her undergarments at the healing scars that mangled her smooth, pallid skin. The deepest, however, still required to be covered by a bandage just in case something was to happen. She sighed, pulling her shirt back down.

"Enjoying yourself?" Eve jumped and spun, gripping the edge of the counter. Sherlock stood in the bathroom door way, pale blue-green eyes fixated on the mirror. "The attacker did a lot of damage to you didn't he?," he inquired before turning around and shutting the door behind him. The edges of her lips pulled down into a frown as she followed after, wondering just how long he had been standing though and how she had not noticed. She stepped inside the flat, glancing about yet seeing no sign of Sherlock. Where was Watson. "If you are wondering about Watson, he will be up in a few minutes. He went down to get some tea," Sherlock spoke up, as though reading her thoughts. It sounded like it had come from the kitchen. She appeared from around the corner to not to her surprise, Sherlock was seated on a stool, examining something beneath the lenses of a microscope.

He looked up for a second, arching a brow before returning to what he was doing. "I can see that you are already settled, judging by the way you were wandering about. Did Mrs. Hudson give you her basement?" She gave a slow nod, "Yeah she did. Nice little place." He replied with a quiet 'mmm', focused on the microscope. "What... Are you doing?," she asked, stepping forward. "Examining material I obtained from the window sill at the hospital. Lucky for you, Watson and I have an idea on who your attacker is."

As though on Que Watson opened the door, shuffling into the flat with dirty blonde hair slick with water, the shoulders of his jacket darker than the rest of the material. Still raining. She turned back to Sherlock, wondering why he wasn't wet from the down pour. "Oh hello." Eve redirected her attention back to Watson, offering him a welcoming smile. He moved over to shrug off the jacket, placing it over a chair. "I see you are all settled in then. Excellent," he spoke up, joining her and Sherlock in the kitchen. "Quiet you two... I am trying to concentrate here. Have your boring little chat some place else," Sherlock muttered underneath his breath before falling silent. "Well alright then," Watson sighed, turning to her with arms crossed over his chest, "I will meet you by the fire place."

The chairs were rather comfy. Plush and warmed by the faint flame that flickered behind the screen of the fireplace. Her eyes found the skull again, its ghastly countenance faced towards the kitchen and not her. John took the seat opposite of her, re-attracting her attention to the blonde. He leaned backwards, resting his elbows upon the arms of the chair as he casting a glance towards her. "I think we should wait for Sher-" - "Just go ahead," Sherlock vocalized, causing John to sigh with a hunch of his shoulders. "Alright then," he muttered, sitting up, meeting her curious gaze. "Sherlock and I have a hunch on who your attacker may be." Eve sat up slightly, her muscles tensing as she shifted to cradle her chin in her delicate palm, eyebrows arching above two glowing optics. "However... We have a plan to draw him out," John muttered, his tone a bit on the dull side as he slouched once more.

"What would it be?," she questioned immediately sitting completely up. She had a feeling it would involve something dangerous. "I am sure it won't be that bad." Sherlock appeared at John's side, gripping the back of the mans chair as he fixed her with an observant gaze. Was that a hint of a small pulling at his lips?


End file.
